If you didn’t lose everything investing in Enron . . . If you didn’t read the newspapers, the magazines, the books . . . If you didn’t watch TV, listen to the radio, or see the movie . . . If you can’t remember 2001, because you’re overwhelmed by the financial scandals uncovered in 2010 . . . Then, by all means, go see “Enron,” the Broadway play.

I’ve long suffered from Enron fatigue. Yet I dragged myself across Times Square to the Broadhurst Theatre last week to see this multimedia tragicomedy, which opens April 27 but has been in previews since April 8.

It was the first time I ever saw a multimillion-dollar theatrical production about people I’ve actually met.

I covered the Enron trial in February 2006. I saw Enron CEOs Ken Lay and Jeff Skilling strutting about a Houston courthouse like it was their stage, promising a dramatic end to the many vengeful fraud accusations they faced.

They boldly declared themselves victims of a run on the bank, an economic accident, a financial 9/11. And they were far more comical in real life as they are now portrayed on Broadway.

I knew I should have gone to “American Idiot” instead. The Enron audience — a decidedly 50-plus crowd — looked like they might have had just enough money left for tickets after getting ripped off by Ponzi schemer Bernie Madoff.

I have been long exposed to the same material as British playwright Lucy Prebble. But clearly I lack her imagination.

I never dreamed, for example, that the Enron commercial — the one that goes: Why? Why? Why? Why? … like a whiny toddler trying to comprehend Santa Claus — could ever become a show tune.

And after watching the show, I am left with even more “whys:”

Why was “Enron” such an award-winning hit in London before coming to New York? Don’t the British have enough of their own money-grubbing sociopaths to venerate in song and dance?

Why didn’t they make a play about Bernie Ebbers and Worldcom, which swiftly supplanted Enron as the world’s biggest bankruptcy? “Jesus is still Lord, and I’m still his child,” Ebbers declared after Worldcom’s collapse. “If it ends up being true that there is a lot of accounting issues, I don’t know the facts on that.” See, now that was a show.

Why portray Skilling as a happy-go lucky innovator and all-around genius rather than the seething financial psychopath he was?

Why didn’t they sing “Da Enron Ron” to the tune of “Da Doo Ron Ron?”

Why would anybody make a play about accounting? And why would anybody pay $120 to see it? I can only wonder what is next: “Oh, Calcu-lator!” “The Structured Finance Follies.” “Fiddler on the Balance Sheet.” “The Comedy of Spreadsheet Errors.” Or, maybe just “Grease!”

Why did I blow $20 on an Enron hat in the lobby? I wore it home on my flight from New York to Denver and some passersby looked at me like they wanted me flayed on a stick.

One of the play’s funnier sketches came from two characters representing the Lehman Brothers — both stuffed inside an extra-wide overcoat like Siamese twins in brimmed hats and geeky glasses. Enron Chief Financial Officer Andy Fastow greeted them with profanities.

“That’s one of the biggest banks in the world,” Skilling chided Fastow. “You can’t talk to them that way.”

“That’s the thing,” Fastow replied. “I can. They are all desperate to be seen alongside Enron.”

“What’s your analyst rating our stock at?” Skilling then barked at the Siamese Lehman Brothers. To which they repled in squeaky and obsequious unison: “Buy.”

“Not strong buy?” Skilling continues. ” See, if you rated us strong buy, more people would invest in Enron. And if more people invested in Enron, we could finance more projects, which would make Enron stronger, and therefore “making it a strong buy,” the Lehman Brothers concluded.

In addition to exploring the chicken-or-egg science of analyst ratings, the play explores the Byzantine wonders of trading, hedging and mark-to-market accounting.

Guys in dinosaur masks with glowing red eyes eat Enron’s massive debts — a representation of the off-the-books partnerships that Fastow called “Raptors.”

Daringly unaware of financial-world cliches, the play costumes Enron’s board directors as Three Blind Mice. And Ken Lay’s portrayal is not far from Thurston Howell III from “Gilligan’s Island,” ignorantly encouraging everyone to keep making those millions as he helps President George W. Bush with his energy policies.

The real Lay died while vacationing in Aspen., between his conviction and sentencing in July 2006. Skilling meantime continues to enjoy his Colorado vacation in a minimum-security penitentiary near Denver as he awaits word on his case from the U.S. Supreme Court.

Watching the Enron spectacle in a theater is like catching another TV news video of jets crashing into towers on 9/11. You’ve seen them over and over, from every angle, but you watch anyway, and they make you sick. Maybe that’s why the play throws yet another 9/11 plane crash image at you, too.

All in all, it was almost as much fun as that too-dumb-to-fail musical within “The Producers,” a 1968 film by Mel Brooks, which also became a Broadway show. It was called, “Springtime for Hitler: A Gay Romp With Eva and Adolf at Berchtesgaden.”

And there could be more of this entertainment to come.

“The financial practices pioneered at Enron are now widespread throughout the world,” the play declares in its epilogue.

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